


A Typical Christmas

by MsLadySmith



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Presents, Christmas Shopping, Gen, M/M, last minute shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27995412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLadySmith/pseuds/MsLadySmith
Summary: For the 2020 Advent Collection Johnlock Style - my prompt is "last-minute shopping"
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24
Collections: 2020 Advent Collection Johnlock Style





	A Typical Christmas

“Sherlock?” John called from the kitchen.

Looking up from his suitcase, Sherlock huffed, “No, I am not packing any experiments.”

John snorted. “That’s not it but thank you. No, I was going to ask where the tray of biscuits in the kitchen has gone.”

A pause. “I may have eaten a few of them.” Another pause. “Well, maybe all of them.”

“WHAT?”

“I was peckish!”

“That was 4 dozen Christmas biscuits! Those were supposed to be a gift for your parents, you git! Now we have to go shopping before we catch the train.”

“Why? It’s just my parents…”

“And it’s CHRISTMAS!” John snapped loudly. Then, in a calmer tone, “And it’s the first Christmas I’m spending with your family. I want to make a good impression.”

“Mrs. Hudson’s biscuits were good, but Mummy’s are better,” Sherlock walked into the living room, setting his small suitcase beside John’s. “Hardly the impression you want to make, is it?”

“You could have TOLD me that.” John rolled his eyes. 

“How was I to know you intended to impress her?”

John groaned. “Never mind. Let’s just go. That will give us an extra 30 minutes at the station.” He picked up both cases, and headed down the stairs, Sherlock on his heels.

* * *

“It’s good that Marylebone has a few shops. Chocolates?”

“Mummy doesn’t like chocolate.”

“OK, then. Chocolates for your father.” He handed the two bags to Sherlock. “Come on,” he (gently) ordered, walking into Hotel Chocolat.

The shop was unsurprisingly busy. _Apparently_ , John thought wryly, _everyone has a flatmate who eats an entire tray of Christmas biscuits in a fit of peckishness_. At the near-empty display of chocolate biscuits, he reached for the last box of Chocolat Pillows – Biscuits of the Gods, they are called – when a small hand grabs the same box. He looked down to see a little girl, maybe six years old, looking up at him. “I’m sorry, sir,” she stammered. “I need to buy these for my grandmother. She loves them so.”

“Yeah, sure,” he released the box, watching the girl bounce to her mother with glee. 

With a sigh, he continued his search. He was about to pick up a box of Tipsy Truffles when Sherlock’s voice rumbled in his ear. “Father doesn’t drink,” he said quietly.

“Doesn’t drink? Having to deal with you and Mycroft growing up? I’m shocked,” John chuckled. “How about these, then?” He picked up a box labelled The Signature Collection – Classic. 

“That will be fine,” Sherlock replied, almost dismissively. “Hard to go too wrong with variety, after all.”

“Good,” John took the box to the cashier and paid for it, then tucking it into his bag. “Now, something for your mum.” 

Sherlock glanced at his watch. “Might I suggest flowers? We’re nearly out of time.”

“Shit. All right, then. Go over to the flower shop and pick something she’d like, yeah?” John asked, reaching the bags. 

“Hardly a gift from you if I pick it out, is it?” Sherlock grinned mischievously. 

Another groan. “Fine. Suggestions?”

“Not roses.”

John headed off to the flower shop, grabbing the last mixed bouquet in the rack – thankfully, with no roses in it - returning just as the train began to board.

* * *

Gifts purchased, they boarded the train for the two hour ride to Birmingham. John held the bouquet of flowers awkwardly as Sherlock remained glued to his phone. A few other passengers noticed, smiling knowingly as they passed them. 

“They’re not from him… or for him… They’re for his mother… He’s not my boyfriend…” was John’s nearly continual mumbled refrain.

After an eternity (at least!), the train arrived at the Birmingham station, where the elder Holmeses were waiting for them. 

“Hello, Mummy,” Sherlock managed to say before his mother drew him into a hug.

“And you must be Dr Watson, then,” Mr Holmes said, extending a hand to John. 

“Yes, sir, a pleasure to meet you both." John shook the offered hand. "These are for you, Mrs Holmes,” John turned to hand her the bouquet when he was suddenly surrounded by her arms. 

“Oh, they are lovely!” She said as she proceeded to squeeze the life out of him for another moment before releasing him.

Pulling the box of chocolates out of his bag, he continued. “And these are for you, Mr. Holmes.”

“Thank you!”

They walked to the car together, Mr Holmes having taken the bags from Sherlock and John to put them in the car boot before ushering everyone into the car and taking the drivering seat. 

“We do so look forward to seeing you, Sherlock. Happy you were able to bring your partner this year, too,” Mummy chatted over her shoulder.

“I’m not his…” John started to say with a blush.

“Christmas is the only time you bring us flowers and chocolates,” she continued.

John glared at Sherlock, who smiled innocently.

“Of course our tickets were out of Marylebone. I do my last-minute shopping there every year,” he nearly purred in John’s ear.


End file.
